A family.
“Are you happy?” Persephone asked later, when Hecate had left to give them time alone.
They sat in bed, each holding one of the twins who slept soundlessly in their arms, swaddled in blankets Alma had quilted for the pair. She’d taken the time to stitch each square with an image. “To represent everyone who loves them,” she’d said, pausing to chuckle. “I had to get creative. There are so many, after all.”
Hades looked at his wife and answered, “More than I ever imagined possible. And you? Are you happy?”
“I am…” She paused, and Hades wondered why she was struggling to find the words, but when she finally spoke, he understood. “I am grateful and content…and still in disbelief. We’re parents.”
It was hard to believe. He was not sure he had fully wrapped his mind around the idea, even though he was holding a baby that was basically a mini version of himself. Melinoë had his features while Zagreus had clearly taken Persephone’s.
“I can’t believe Hecate trusted us enough to leave us alone with them,” said Hades.
“It’s not like she went far,” she said. “You heard her outside the door.”
Earlier, she had been arguing with Hermes about some kind of winged shoes and why the babies could not wear them.
Hades chuckled. “True.”
Persephone leaned against Hades’s shoulder. “Look at the life you created in the Underworld.”
Hades’s chest tightened at her words. “We created,” he said. “But you are right. They are miracles.”
He smoothed a hand over Melinoë’s head.
He wished he had a better word to describe them, but it was probably the closest to what he intended. A miracle was an extraordinary event. They were common for mortals since gods granted them, but there were fewer instances for the divine. Somehow, they had managed two.
“Now that they are here,” Hades said. “I can only think of them as a gift.”
Even if the Fates granted the children for some purpose of their own, it did not matter. They would face those trials as they came. For now, he would have peace.
“I think you are right,” Persephone said, her soft gaze shifting from Zagreus to him.
“Merry Christmas, Hades.”
He smiled and leaned forward to kiss her, speaking close to her skin. “Merry Christmas, darling.”
Chapter 14
Thanatos x Lexa
Lexa checked the map one more time.
She was terrible with directions, and she might have accused Thanatos of not even knowing her, but the map he had left her was not traditional. It was hand-drawn and had instructions in Thanatos’s small, careful handwriting.
When you leave your house, turn right. Take twenty steps (yes, I accounted for your stride). You will come to the final house on the right. Go right. Walk until you come to the sixth tree. The one with the low branches (do not count saplings). Walk at a diagonal.
Along with the words, he drew pictures, including small doodles of the landmarks.
She wanted to be offended by how obviously he did not trust her to find her way, but this was also so insanely cute, she couldn’t help feeling moved. Still, she wondered what lay at the end of the map and if she should let herself get excited.
Her relationship with Thanatos was a rollercoaster, an official-unofficial mess. She’d loved him the moment she arrived in Elysium, she was sure of it, though Thanatos said that was impossible, that she had not been healed enough to understand he was only caring for her as he cared for all souls.
But she had watched him with other souls, and he did not linger with them. He did not sit beneath the eaves of the trees and talk to them until the sky turned dark and deep with stars. He didn’t let other souls kiss him.
She thought things might change once she moved into Asphodel, but it had been six months since, and he still seemed reluctant, anxious, distant, especially as the Ascension approached.
“You’re the God of Death, won’t you know when I am ready to ascend?” she asked.
